Sip it ever-so-slowly
roll it over your tongue
pause it at the back of your throat
neither ‘down it,’ let it float
gently through safe and secret passages
‘til it exits, still as a resting musical note
In a higher plane
Against the grain
Along a concrete path.
In search of solace
from those among us
A devastating earthly wrath
Seeking pleas in faces
Running earthly races
Too fast to offer time
Giving chase
Looking for grace
From those in the mundane and grime
I hear a voice say
“Come now, leave the fray.”
“I bear what holds you true.”
His voice, that of verse
Of choir, of song traverse
As if coming from the pews
I see the Man
Holding in his hands
He summons me my gift
A musical note
For me to dote
My life dream now adrift
My note strung together
In a song that’s now forever
Orchestrates still in my heart
Serenades in my veins
Crescendoes my plains
A distinct timbre, no man can part
I hold my note and know
What came with no ribbon, no bow
Came from He above
If im your Adam, you my Eve
We are when three conceive
God, faith and love
Two thousand and twenty-six,
is the sixty-ninth year I'll have seen,
but the crystal ball predicts
I still won't know what it all means.
While I wonder what it's about,
I'll still be living by the water,
hoping that my health holds out,
wishing for a granddaughter.
I'll continue that eternal quest,
for fulfillment, truth and peace,
beauty, relief and all the rest,
as I will till my days surcease.
While I engage in this pursuit
a laugh, a smile, a sunshine ray,
a musical note, a bite of fruit,
will make my life from day to day.
A lone petal unfurls
not a bloom,
not a flower,
no use to bees,
as one decrepit.
It's on its knees
trying to please
all alone.
It's an echo of a question,
yet to be asked.
It's a pose, unpoised, unprompted.
It's one eye, nose, or ear,
in defaced mask.
It's a one-handed clap,
an air-kiss from poked puckered lips
It's a hand-shake request
never returned.
a promise never spoken
a swing never swung
a trip never begun
a tear shed in solitude
a wave goodbye, never returned,
It's a mantra or
a musical note recited only once.
All these are clones of
of singularities,
koan and kin.
After Rain
The audacious sun finally showed up, and green was
the winter landscape, I also saw the sun set just behind
the carob tree, where the almond tree first blossom,
asleep under a carpet of wildflowers and snoozed till dawn.
Over the easterly range, which is the first defense against
Spanish Marauders and the rain on its plane, the clouds
were dark blue, perhaps, more rain tomorrow?
In fading light, a musical note danced down the phone line,
the first spring flirt. And should it rain tomorrow, I will
not be downhearted, this day will keep me warm for weeks.
The sunrise broke free from dawn.
Drum beats could be felt but never heard.
Bass guitar strings wired the fiery horizon,
and the lead guitarist played 'hallelujah', quietly.
Clearly seen releasing imaginative music was a violinist.
There were harps and horns, tambourines and quiet trumpets.
Like a sponge, my soul was absorbing every musical note,
and like a ship, I was sailing upon a celestial sea of harmony.
It was one symphonic sunrise with the feel of heaven.
It was one dream of a morning; one melodic August day.
It was a real treat being graced by God between cotton sheets.
I slowly arose from a deep sleep feeling restored, rested, and sweet.
A beautiful dream had 'made my day' before it even began.
Nothing nor anyone was going to rob me of my blessed August day.
081924PS
To sound the right musical note,
string of the guitar is made taut,
so likewise for our light to shine,
trials we face, make us self-taught.
Stuporous is mind, heart unkind,
insipid stance, clumsy our dance,
floundering about as though blind,
mindful eye alters circumstance.
Notice head and heart, stand apart,
misaligned from the pulse of love,
so simply tightening soul’s strings,
they begin to act hand in glove.
Choosing consciousness correction,
fixating on God our focus,
shifts life’s course and our direction,
flowing along the love locus.
Tension buildup can be useful,
if employed for a higher cause,
which reworded simply requires,
putting flow of desires on pause.
Desires exhumed, our thoughts too cease,
then ego dies, since it’s unfed,
whereupon we flow like the breeze,
love energised, by bliss beats led.
I don't know that poetry
needs be anything but poetry,
while myself realizing
that definition greatly varies –
but I have seen acrobatic
words that flop like
wingless birds,
and predictable political
soap-boxing – not my vote
if lacking a fine musical note,
with a rose in the orator's hair
for those, like me, who otherwise
wouldn't care –
aside from all else
poetry should be beautiful
first, even when the subject
is misery, poetry having ability
to spiritual transcend
yet purely gymnastics does have
a poetic flair
and politics has its tuneful trumpeting
elephants and rhythmic donkey braying,
though
written mostly
for whoever is paying
Did you hear that pleasing sound?
Or rather a musical note unheard before.
It’s heard when the mind is free
Free from the mundane mental occupancy
The note is a drift away from daily dilapidations
That further deteriorate the already decaying mind
It’s time, it’s time to stop and start,
Stop the rush, stop the rigorous thinking we subject ourselves to
Start the stay, start the stay in the cocoon of Mother Nature
Here’s where we will hear that note, which keeps ringing
It’s sublime, it’s omnipresent, it’s super powerful
It’s unforcefully forceful
It’s forever heard, it’s forever unheard
It can ring in pleasure, it can bring in peace
It’s seeping in through creeks
It’s what Our Mother Nature Speaks.
Seated in yoga position
As cool instruments play
Driving negative vibration
While solemnly I pray
Yoga relaxes mind
Setting my cares behind
My best way to unwind
Closed eyes meastra
Seated in yoga
Dec. 11,2022 6.10pm
Longa in English means a musical note with a time value equal to two or three double whole notes: In modern notation, a longa is usually represented as semibreves tied across two measures.
I might change “in longa” to maestra in the future for a teacher who is always tired, lol.
Quietus
Created by” Unseeking Seeker,” consisting of one quatrain (syllable count 8-6-8-6 with a rhyme of abab ), one tercet (syllable count 6-6-6 with a rhyme scheme of ccc ), and one refrain with a rhyme scheme of (dd), made from a line of words from line one, how many words is your choice. The refrain is the title.
PS Syllable Counter
Syllables Per Line: 8 6 8 6 0 6 6 6 0 5 5
Total # Syllables: 56
Total # Lines: 11 (Including empty lines)
The song of life is hidden
between the pages of living
each musical note
is a resonance of how we sound
cup your beautiful mouth,
make an O my Wonderling,
never stop existing
in the awe moments
of giving
The soul vibrates like a musical note
plucked by the changing universe of life
and within this realm, our conscious will float
with love as our true sword, we'll battle strife
we are the love born connected to all
to fight the dark if we wish to be whole
the conquered darkness we allow to fall
then seek the divine, and placed on love's scroll
names which are written, threads which are woven
to be a universal sacred cloth
where all of the love is interwoven
to protect our souls against demon's wroth
like water, we flow without any form
our souls merge with love, to be a light warm
5/28/22
contest Unity Consciousness
Living in paradise
Oh! how lovely and nice
To take a world cruise
You and I together, we can't lose
Sandy beaches and radiant sun
Loving each other as one
Stranded on the beach
With a glass of tea, that's peach
Sailing on the Love boat
Listening to a musical note
Captured in your beauty
For me, is not a duty
Imagine, your wit and charm
Romantically embraced in my arms
Oh! How lovely and nice
To be living in paradise
Born a musical note
not to be played famous
I languish in sound
Which nuance of shifting bliss hues defines
pivotal moment of rapture climax?
To which musical note may we assign
as cause of delight without parallax?
Wherefrom comes our will to ego urge axe,
even though fears and desires manifest?
How did kundalini rise to the crest,
with our consciousness anchored in bondage?
Lastly, the throb of bliss which does persist;
how does the love elixir, pain assuage?
17-November-2020
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.